Good Life
by stupidlittleboo
Summary: Different pairs can be seen in this story but I believe Finchel, Brittana and Tartie are endgame.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

"_Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents_," grumbled Santana, lying on the rug.

"_It's so dreadful to be poor!"_ sighed Rachel, looking down at her old dress.

"_I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all," _added little Tina, with an injured sniff.

"_We've got Father and Mother, and each other_," said Marley contentedly from her corner.

The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Santana said sadly, "_We haven't got Father, and shall not have him for a long time._" She didn't say "perhaps never," but each silently added it, thinking of Father far away, where the fighting was.

Nobody spoke for a minute; then Rachel said in an altered tone, "_You know the reason Mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard winter for everyone; and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering so in the army. We can't do much, but we can make our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I am afraid I don't_," and Rachel shook her head, as she thought regretfully of all the pretty things she wanted.

"_But I don't think the little we should spend would do any good. We've each got a dollar, and the army wouldn't be much helped by our giving that. I agree not to expect anything from Mother or you, but I do want to buy Struck by Lightning for myself. I've wanted it so long_," said Santana, who was a bookworm.

"_I_ _planned to spend mine in new music_," said Marley, with a little sigh, which no one heard but the hearth brush and kettle-holder.

"_I shall get a nice box of Faber's drawing pencils; I really need them_," said Tina decidedly.

"_Mother didn't say anything about our money, and she won't wish us to give up everything. Let's each buy what we want, and have a little fun; I'm sure we work hard enough to earn it_," cried Santana, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner.

"_I_ _know I do-teaching those tiresome children nearly all day, when I'm longing to enjoy myself at home_," began Rachel, in the complaining tone again.

"_You don't have half such a hard time as I do_," said Santana. "_How would you like to be shut up for hours with a nervous, fussy old lady, who keeps you trotting, is never satisfied, and worries you till you're ready to fly out the window or cry_?"

"_It's naughty to fret, but I do think washing dishes and keeping things tidy is the worst work in the world. It makes me cross, and my hands get so stiff, I can't practice well at all_." And Marley looked at her rough hands with a sigh that anyone could hear that time.

"_I don't believe any of you suffer as I do_," cried Tina, "_for you don't have to go to school with impertinent girls, who plague you if you don't know your lessons, and laugh at your dresses, and label your father if he isn't rich, and insult you when your nose isn't nice._"

"_If you mean libel, I'd say so, and not talk about labels, as if Papa was a pickle bottle_," advised Santana, laughing.

"_I know what I mean, and you needn't be statirical about it. It's proper to use good words, and improve your vocabilary,_" returned Tina, with dignity.

"_Don't_ _peck at one another, children. Don't you wish we had the money Papa lost when we were little, Santana? Dear me! How happy and good we'd be, if we had no worries!_" said Rachel, who could remember better times.

"_You said the other day you thought we were a deal happier than the King children, for they were fighting and fretting all the time, in spite of their money."_

"_So I did, Marley. Well, I think we are. For though we do have to work, we make fun of ourselves, and are a pretty jolly set, as Santana would say_."

"_Santana does use such slang words!"_ observed Tina, with a reproving look at the long figure stretched on the rug.

Santana immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets, and began to whistle.

"_Don't, Santana. It's so boyish!"_

"_That's why I do it."_

"_I detest rude, unladylike girls_!"

"_I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits!"_

"_Birds in their little nests agree_," sang Marley, the peacemaker, with such a funny face that both sharp voices softened to a laugh, and the "pecking" ended for that time.

"_Really, girls, you are both to be blamed_," said Rachel, beginning to lecture in her elder-sisterly fashion. "_You are old enough to leave off boyish tricks, and to behave better, Santana. It didn't matter so much when you were a little girl, but now you are so tall, and turn up your hair, you should remember that you are a young lady_."

"_I'm not! And if turning up my hair makes me one, I'll wear it in two tails till I'm twenty,_" cried Santana, pulling off her net, and shaking down a chestnut mane. "_I hate to think I've got to grow up, and be Miss Pezberrosechang, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China Aster! It's bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy's games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy. And it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman!_"

And Santana shook the blue army sock till the needles rattled like castanets, and her ball bounded across the room.

"_Poor Santana! It's too bad, but it can't be helped. So you must try to be contented with making your name boyish, and playing brother to us girls,"_ said Marley, stroking the rough head with a hand that all the dish washing and dusting in the world could not make ungentle in its touch.

"_As for you, Tina_," continued Rachel, "_you are altogether too particular and prim. Your airs are funny now, but you'll grow up an affected little goose, if you don't take care. I like your nice manners and refined ways of speaking, when you don't try to be elegant. But your absurd words are as bad as Santana's slang_."

"_If Santana is a tomboy and Tina a goose, what am I, please_?" asked Marley, ready to share the lecture.

"_You're a dear, and nothing else_," answered Rachel warmly, and no one contradicted her, for the 'Mouse' was the pet of the family.

As young readers like to know 'how people look', we will take this moment to give them a little sketch of the four sisters, who sat knitting away in the twilight, while the December snow fell quietly without, and the fire crackled cheerfully within. It was a comfortable room, though the carpet was faded and the furniture very plain, for a good picture or two hung on the walls, books filled the recesses, chrysanthemums and Christmas roses bloomed in the windows, and a pleasant atmosphere of home peace pervaded it.

**Rachel**, the eldest of the four, was sixteen, and very pretty, being plump and fair, with brown eyes, plenty of soft brown hair, a sweet large mouth, and white hands, of which she was rather vain.

Fifteen-year-old **Santana** was very tall, thin, and brown, and reminded one of a colt, for she never seemed to know what to do with her long limbs, which were very much in her way. She had a decided mouth, a comical nose, and sharp, dark brown eyes, which appeared to see everything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful. Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundled into a net, to be out of her way.

**Marley**, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smooth-haired, blue bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression which was seldom disturbed.

**Tina**, though the youngest, was a most important person, in her own opinion at least. She's a regular snow maiden, with brown eyes, and blue streaks in her hair black hair curling on her shoulders, pale and chubby, and always carrying herself like a young lady mindful of her manners. _What the characters of the four sisters were we will leave to be found out._

The clock struck six and, having swept up the hearth, Marley put a pair of slippers down to warm. Somehow the sight of the old shoes had a good effect upon the girls, for Mother was coming, and everyone brightened to welcome her. Rachel stopped lecturing, and lighted the lamp, Tina got out of the easy chair without being asked, and Santana forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippers nearer to the blaze.

"_They are quite worn out. Marmee must have a new pair_."

"_I thought I'd get her some with my dollar_," said Marley.

"_No, I shall!"_ cried Tina.

"_I'm the oldest_," began Rachel, but Santana cut in with a decided, "_I'm the man of the family now Papa is away, and I shall provide the slippers, for he told me to take special care of Mother while he was gone."_

"_I'll tell you what we'll do_," said Marley, "_let's each get her something for Christmas, and not get anything for ourselves."_

"_That's like you, dear! What will we get_?" exclaimed Santana.

Everyone thought soberly for a minute, then Rachel announced, as if the idea was suggested by the sight of her own pretty hands, "_I shall give her a nice pair of gloves._"

"_Army shoes, best to be had_," cried Santana.

"_Some handkerchiefs, all hemmed_," said Marley.

"_I'll get a little bottle of cologne. She likes it, and it won't cost much, so I'll have some left to buy my pencils_," added Tina.

"_How will we give the things?"_ asked Rachel.

"_Put them on the table, and bring her in and see her open the bundles. Don't you remember how we used to do on our birthdays?_" answered Santana.

"_I used to be so frightened when it was my turn to sit in the chair with the crown on, and see you all come marching round to give the presents, with a kiss. I liked the things and the kisses, but it was dreadful to have you sit looking at me while I opened the bundles,_" said Marley, who was toasting her face and the bread for tea at the same time.

"_Let Marmee think we are getting things for ourselves, and then surprise her. We must go shopping tomorrow afternoon, Rachel. There is so much to do about the play for Christmas night_," said Santana, marching up and down, with her hands behind her back, and her nose in the air.

"I _don't mean to act any more after this time. I'm getting too old for such things_," observed Rachel, who was as much a child as ever about 'dressing-up' frolics.

"_You won't stop, I know, as long as you can trail round in a white gown with your hair down, and wear gold-paper jewelry. You are the best actress we've got, and there'll be an end of everything if you quit the boards_," said Santana. "_We ought to rehearse tonight. Come here, Tina, and do the fainting scene, for you are as stiff as a poker in that._"

"_I can't help it. I never saw anyone faint, and I don't choose to make myself all black and blue, tumbling flat as you do. If I can go down easily, I'll drop. If I can't, I shall fall into a chair and be graceful. I don't care if the witch does come at me with a pistol or a canonl,_" returned Tina, who was not gifted with dramatic power, but was chosen because she was small enough to be borne out shrieking by the villain of the piece.

"_Do it this way. Clasp your hands so, and stagger across the room, crying frantically, 'Prince Kynd! Save me! Save me!_'" and away went Santana, with a melodramatic scream which was truly thrilling.

Tina followed, but she poked her hands out stiffly before her, and jerked herself along as if she went by machinery, and her "_Ow!"_ was more suggestive of pins being run into her than of fear and anguish. Santana gave a despairing groan, and Rachel laughed outright, while Marley let her bread burn as she watched the fun with interest. "_It's no use! Do the best you can when the time comes, and if the audience laughs, don't blame me. Come on, Rachel._"

Then things went smoothly, for Dorothy defied the world in a speech of two pages without a single break. Tin, the woodman, chanted an awful incantation over her kettleful of simmering toads, with weird effect. The witches rent his chains asunder manfully, and Hungry Tiger died in agonies of remorse and arsenic, with a wild, "Ha! Ha!"

"_It's the best we've had yet_," said Rachel, as the dead villain sat up and rubbed his elbows.

"_I don't see how you can make another story for Dorothy of Oz such splendid things, Santana. You're a regular Shakespeare!_" exclaimed Marley, who firmly believed that her sisters were gifted with wonderful genius in all things.

"_Not quite_," replied Santana modestly. "_I do think "The Witches Curse, an Operatic Tragedy" is rather a nice thing, but I'd like to try Funny Girl if we only had a trapdoor for Fanny. I always wanted to do the killing part. 'Is that a dagger that I see before me?_" muttered Santana, rolling her eyes and clutching at the air, as she had seen a famous tragedian do.

"_No, it's the toasting fork, with Mother's shoe on it instead of the bread. Marley's stage-struck_!" cried Rachel, and the rehearsal ended in a general burst of laughter.

"_Glad to find you so merry, my girls,"_ said a cheery voice at the door, and actors and audience turned to welcome a tall, motherly lady with a 'can I help you' look about her which was truly delightful. She was not elegantly dressed, but a noble-looking woman, and the girls thought the gray cloak and unfashionable bonnet covered the most splendid mother in the world.

"_Well, dearies, how have you got on today? There was so much to do, getting the boxes ready to go tomorrow, that I didn't come home to dinner. Has anyone called, Marley? How is your cold, Rachel? Santana, you look tired to death. Tina looking spoiled again. Come and kiss me, baby._"

While making these maternal inquiries Mrs. Pezberrosechang got her wet things off, her warm slippers on, and sitting down in the easy chair, drew Tina to her lap, preparing to enjoy the happiest hour of her busy day. The girls flew about, trying to make things comfortable, each in her way. Rachel arranged the tea table; Santana brought wood and set chairs, dropping, over-turning, and clattering everything she touched. Marley trotted to and fro between parlor kitchen, quiet and busy, while Tina gave directions to everyone, as she sat with her hands folded.

As they gathered about the table, Mrs. Pezberrosechang said, with a particularly happy face, "_I've got a treat for you after supper._"

A quick, bright smile went round like a streak of sunshine. Marley clapped her hands, regardless of the biscuit she held, and Santana tossed up her napkin, crying, "_A letter! A letter! Three cheers for Father!_"

"_Yes, a nice long letter. He is well, and thinks he shall get through the cold season better than we feared. He sends all sorts of loving wishes for Christmas, and an especial message to you girls,_" said Mrs. Pezberrosechang, patting her pocket as if she had got a treasure there.

"_Hurry and get done! Don't stop to quirk your little finger and simper over your plate, Tina_," cried Santana, choking on her tea and dropping her bread, butter side down, on the carpet in her haste to get at the treat.

Marley ate no more, but crept away to sit in her shadowy corner and brood over the delight to come, till the others were ready.

"_I think it was so splendid in Father to go as chaplain when he was too old to be drafted, and not strong enough for a soldier,_" said Rachel warmly.

"_Don't I wish I could go as a drummer, a vivan-what's its name? Or a nurse, so I could be near him and help him," exclaimed Santana,_ with a groan.

"_It must be very disagreeable to sleep in a tent, and eat all sorts of bad-tasting things, and drink out of a tin mug_," sighed Tina.

"_When will he come home, Marmee_?" asked Marley, with a little quiver in her voice.

"_Not for many months, dear, unless he is sick. He will stay and do his work faithfully as long as he can, and we won't ask for him back a minute sooner than he can be spared. Now come and hear the letter._"

They all drew to the fire, Mother in the big chair with Marley at her feet, Rachel and Tina perched on either arm of the chair, and Santana leaning on the back, where no one would see any sign of emotion if the letter should happen to be touching. Very few letters were written in those hard times that were not touching, especially those which fathers sent home. In this one little was said of the hardships endured, the dangers faced, or the homesickness conquered. It was a cheerful, hopeful letter, full of lively descriptions of camp life, marches, and military news, and only at the end did the writer's heart over-flow with fatherly love and longing for the little girls at home.

"_Give them all of my dear love and a kiss. Tell them I think of them by day, pray for them by night, and find my best comfort in their affection at all times. A year seems very long to wait before I see them, but remind them that while we wait we may all work, so that these hard days need not be wasted. I know they will remember all I said to them, that they will be loving children to you, will do their duty faithfully, fight their bosom enemies bravely, and conquer themselves so beautifully that when I come back to them I may be fonder and prouder than ever of my little women."_

Everybody sniffed when they came to that part. Santana wasn't ashamed of the great tear that dropped off the end of her nose, and Tina never minded the rumpling of her curls as she hid her face on her mother's shoulder and sobbed out, "_I am a selfish girl!_ _But I'll truly try to be better, so he mayn't be disappointed in me by-and-by."_

"_We all will_," cried Rachel. "_I think too much of my looks and hate to work, but won't any more, if I can help it._"

"_I'll try and be what he loves to call me, 'a little woman' and not be rough and wild, but do my duty here instead of wanting to be somewhere else,_" said Santana, thinking that keeping her temper at home was a much harder task than facing a rebel or two down South.

Marley said nothing, but wiped away her tears with the blue army sock and began to knit with all her might, losing no time in doing the duty that lay nearest her, while she resolved in her quiet little soul to be all that Father hoped to find her when the year brought round the happy coming home.

Mrs. Pezberrosechang broke the silence that followed Santana's words, by saying in her cheery voice, "_Do you remember how you used to play Pilgrims Progress when you were little things? Nothing delighted you more than to have me tie my piece bags on your backs for burdens, give you hats and sticks and rolls of paper, and let you travel through the house from the cellar, which was the City of Destruction, up, up, to the housetop, where you had all the lovely things you could collect to make a Celestial City_."

"_What fun it was, especially going by the lions, fighting Apollyon, and passing through the valley where the hob-goblins were,"_ said Santana.

"I _liked the place where the bundles fell off and tumbled downstairs,_" said Rachel.

"I _don't remember much about it, except that I was afraid of the cellar and the dark entry, and always liked the cake and milk we had up at the top. If I wasn't too old for such things, I'd rather like to play it over again,_" said Tina, who began to talk of renouncing childish things at the mature age of twelve.

"_We never are too old for this, my dear, because it is a play we are playing all the time in one way or another. Our burdens are here, our road is before us, and the longing for goodness and happiness is the guide that leads us through many troubles and mistakes to the peace which is a true Celestial City. Now, my little pilgrims, suppose you begin again, not in play, but in earnest, and see how far on you can get before Father comes home_."

"_Really, Mother? Where are our bundles?_" asked Tina, who was a very literal young lady.

"_Each of you told what your burden was just now, except Marley. I rather think she hasn't got any_," said her mother.

"_Yes, I have. Mine is dishes and dusters, and envying girls with nice pianos, and being afraid of people."_

Marley's bundle was such a funny one that everybody wanted to laugh, but nobody did, for it would have hurt her feelings very much.

"_Let us do it,_" said Rachel thoughtfully. "_It is only another name for trying to be good, and the story may help us, for though we do want to be good, it's hard work and we forget, and don't do our best."_

"_We were in the Slough of Despond tonight, and Mother came and pulled us out as Help did in the book. We ought to have our roll of directions, like Christian. What shall we do about that?_" asked Santana, delighted with the fancy which lent a little romance to the very dull task of doing her duty.

"_Look under your pillows Christmas morning, and you will find your guidebook_," replied Mrs. Pezberrosechang.

They talked over the new plan while old Hannah cleared the table, then out came the four little work baskets, and the needles flew as the girls made sheets for Aunt Sylvester. It was uninteresting sewing, but tonight no one grumbled. They adopted Santana's plan of dividing the long seams into four parts, and calling the quarters Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and in that way got on capitally, especially when they talked about the different countries as they stitched their way through them.

At nine they stopped work, and sang, as usual, before they went to bed. No one but Marley could get much music out of the old piano, but she had a way of softly touching the yellow keys and making a pleasant accompaniment to the simple songs they sang. Rachel had a voice like a flute, and she and her mother led the little choir. Tina chirped like a cricket, and Santana wandered through the airs at her own sweet will, always coming out at the wrong place with a croak or a quaver that spoiled the most pensive tune. They had always done this from the time they could lisp...

_ Some day, when_ I´m _awfully low When the world is cold __I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

and it had become a household custom, for the mother was a born singer. The first sound in the morning was her voice as she went about the house singing like a lark, and the last sound at night was the same cheery sound, for the girls never grew too old for that familiar lullaby.

**Author's Note:** This is the story of Little Women. I just changed the names and some terms. So, if you haven't read that wonderful novel, so here it is. Wait for the next chapter. I love to see some reviews but if you don't like this, it means don't waste time reading Little Women. Godbless.

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, I do not own Glee & Little Women.

**Guide**: Meg – Rachel; Jo – Santana; Beth – Marley; Amy – Tina; Mrs. March – Mrs. Pezberrosechang


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

**A MERRY CHRISTMAS**

Santana was the first to wake in the gray dawn of Christmas morning. No stockings hung at the fireplace, and for a moment she felt as much disappointed as she did long ago, when her little sock fell down because it was crammed so full of goodies.

Then she remembered her mother's promise and, slipping her hand under her pillow, drew out a little crimson-covered book. She knew it very well, for it was that beautiful old story of the best life ever lived, and San felt that it was a true guidebook for any pilgrim going on a long journey.

She woke Rachel with a "_Merry Christmas_," and bade her see what was under her pillow. A green-covered book appeared, with the same picture inside, and a few words written by their mother, which made their one present very precious in their eyes.

Presently Marley and Tina woke to rummage and find their little books also, one dove-colored, the other blue, and all sat looking at and talking about them, while the east grew rosy with the coming day.

In spite of her small vanities, Rachel had a sweet and pious nature, which unconsciously influenced her sisters, especially Santana, who loved her very tenderly, and obeyed her because her advice was so gently given.

"_Girls_," said Rachel seriously, looking from the tumbled head beside her to the two little night-capped ones in the room beyond, "_Mother wants us to read and love and mind these books, and we must begin at once. We used to be faithful about it, but since Father went away and all this war trouble unsettled us, we have neglected many things. You can do as you please, but I shall keep my book on the table here and read a little every morning as soon as I wake, for I know it will do me good and help me through the day._"

Then she opened her new book and began to read. Santana put her arm round her and leaning cheek to cheek, read also, with the quiet expression so seldom seen on her restless face.

"_How good Rachel is! Come, Tina, let's do as they do. I'll help you with the hard words, and they'll explain things if we don't understand_," whispered Marley, very much impressed by the pretty books and her sisters' example.

"_I'm glad mine is blue,"_ said Tina and then the rooms were very still while the pages were softly turned, and the winter sunshine crept in to touch the bright heads and serious faces with a Christmas greeting.

"_Where is Mother?"_ asked Rachel, as she and Santana ran down to thank her for their gifts, half an hour later.

"_Goodness only knows. Some poor children came and beggin', and your ma went straight off to see what was needed. There never was such a woman for givin' away vittles and drink, clothes and firin',"_ replied Hannah, who had lived with the family since Rachel was born, and was considered by them all more as a friend than a servant.

"_She will be back soon, I think, so fry your cakes, and have everything ready," _said Rachel, looking over the presents which were collected in a basket and kept under the sofa, ready to be produced at the proper time. "_Why, where is Tina's bottle of cologne?"_ she added, as the little flask did not appear.

"_She took it out a minute ago, and went off with it to put a ribbon on it, or some such notion,_" replied Santana, dancing about the room to take the first stiffness off the new army slippers.

"_How nice my handkerchiefs look, don't they? Hannah washed and ironed them for me, and I marked them all myself,"_ said Marley, looking proudly at the somewhat uneven letters which had cost her such labor.

"_Bless the child! She's gone and put 'Mother' on them instead of 'M. Pezberrosechang', how funny!"_ cried Santana, taking one up.

"_Isn't that right? I thought it was better to do it so, because Rachel's initials are M.M., and I don't want anyone to use these but Marmee_," said Marley, looking troubled.

_"It's all right, dear, and a very pretty idea, quite sensible too, for no one can ever mistake now. It will please her very much, I know,"_ said Rachel, with a frown for Santana and a smile for Marley.

_"There's Mother. Hide the basket, quick!"_ cried Santana, as a door slammed and steps sounded in the hall.

Tina came in hastily, and looked rather abashed when she saw her sisters all waiting for her.

_"Where have you been, and what are you hiding behind you?"_ asked Rachel, surprised to see, by her hood and cloak, that lazy Tina had been out so early.

_"Don't laugh at me, Santana! I didn't mean anyone should know till the time came. I only meant to change the little bottle for a big one, and I gave all my money to get it, and I'm truly trying not to be selfish anymore."_

As she spoke, Tina showed the handsome flask which replaced the cheap one, and looked so earnest and humble in her little effort to forget herself that Rachel hugged her on the spot, and Santana pronounced her 'a trump', while Marley ran to the window, and picked her finest rose to ornament the stately bottle.

_"You see I felt ashamed of my present, after reading and talking about being good this morning, so I ran round the corner and changed it the minute I was up, and I'm so glad, for mine is the handsomest now."_

Another bang of the street door sent the basket under the sofa, and the girls to the table, eager for breakfast.

_"Merry Christmas, Marmee! Many of them! Thank you for our books. We read some, and mean to every day,"_ they all cried in chorus.

_"Merry Christmas, little daughters! I'm glad you began at once, and hope you will keep on. But I want to say one word before we sit down. Not far away from here lies a poor woman with a little newborn baby. Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there, and the oldest boy came to tell me they were suffering hunger and cold. My girls, will you give them your breakfast as a Christmas present?"_

They were all unusually hungry, having waited nearly an hour, and for a minute no one spoke, only a minute, for Santana exclaimed impetuously, _"I'm so glad you came before we began!"_

"_May I go and help carry the things to the poor little children?" _asked Marley eagerly.

_"I shall take the cream and the muffins,"_ added Tina, heroically giving up the article she most liked.

Rachel was already covering the buck wheat, and piling the bread into one big plate.

_"I thought you'd do it," _said Mrs. Pezberrosechang, smiling as if satisfied. _"You shall all go and help me, and when we come back we will have bread and milk for breakfast, and make it up at dinnertime."_

They were soon ready, and the procession set out. Fortunately it was early, and they went through back streets, so few people saw them, and no one laughed at the queer party.

A poor, bare, miserable room it was, with broken windows, no fire, ragged bedclothes, a sick mother, wailing baby, and a group of pale, hungry children cuddled under one old quilt, trying to keep warm.

How the big eyes stared and the blue lips smiled as the girls went in.

_"Ach, mein Gott! It is good angels come to us!"_ said the poor woman, crying for joy.

_"Funny angels in hoods and mittens," _said Santana, and set them to laughing.

In a few minutes it really did seem as if kind spirits had been at work there. Hannah, who had carried wood, made a fire, and stopped up the broken panes with old hats and her own cloak. Mrs. Pezberrosechang gave the mother tea and gruel, and comforted her with promises of help, while she dressed the little baby as tenderly as if it had been her own. The girls meantime spread the table, set the children round the fire, and fed them like so many hungry birds, laughing, talking, and trying to understand the funny broken English.

_"Das ist gut!" "Die Engel-kinder!"_ cried the poor things as they ate and warmed their purple hands at the comfortable blaze. The girls had never been called angel children before, and thought it very agreeable, especially Santana, who had been considered a 'Sancho' ever since she was born. That was a very happy breakfast, though they didn't get any of it.

And when they went away, leaving comfort behind, I think there were not in all the city four merrier people than the hungry little girls who gave away their breakfasts and contented themselves with bread and milk on Christmas morning.

_"That's loving our neighbor better than ourselves, and I like it,"_ said Rachel, as they set out their presents while their mother was upstairs collecting clothes for the poor Flanagans.

Not a very splendid show, but there was a great deal of love done up in the few little bundles, and the tall vase of red roses, white chrysanthemums, and trailing vines, which stood in the middle, gave quite an elegant air to the table.

_"She's coming! Strike up, Marley! Open the door, Tina! Three cheers for Marmee!" _cried Santana, prancing about while Rachel went to conduct Mother to the seat of honor.

Marley played her gayest march, Tina threw open the door, and Rachel enacted escort with great dignity. Mrs. Pezberrosechang was both surprised and touched, and smiled with her eyes full as she examined her presents and read the little notes which accompanied them. The slippers went on at once, a new handkerchief was slipped into her pocket, well scented with Tina's cologne, the rose was fastened in her bosom, and the nice gloves were pronounced a perfect fit.

There was a good deal of laughing and kissing and explaining, in the simple, loving fashion which makes these home festivals so pleasant at the time, so sweet to remember long afterward, and then all fell to work.

The morning charities and ceremonies took so much time that the rest of the day was devoted to preparations for the evening festivities. Being still too young to go often to the theater, and not rich enough to afford any great outlay for private performances, the girls put their wits to work, and necessity being the mother of invention, made whatever they needed.

Very clever were some of their productions, pasteboard guitars, antique lamps made of old-fashioned butter boats covered with silver paper, gorgeous robes of old cotton, glittering with tin spangles from a pickle factory, and armor covered with the same useful diamond shaped bits left in sheets when the lids of preserve pots were cut out. The big chamber was the scene of many innocent revels.

No gentleman were admitted, so Santana played male parts to her heart's content and took immense satisfaction in a pair of russet leather boots given her by a friend, who knew a lady who knew an actor. These boots, an old foil, and a slashed doublet once used by an artist for some picture, were Santana's chief treasures and appeared on all occasions.

The smallness of the company made it necessary for the two principal actors to take several parts apiece, and they certainly deserved some credit for the hard work they did in learning three or four different parts, whisking in and out of various costumes, and managing the stage besides. It was excellent drill for their memories, a harmless amusement, and employed many hours which otherwise would have been idle, lonely, or spent in less profitable society.

On Christmas night, a dozen girls piled onto the bed which was the dress circle, and sat before the blue and yellow chintz curtains in a most flattering state of expectancy. There was a good deal of rustling and whispering behind the curtain, a trifle of lamp smoke, and an occasional giggle from Tina, who was apt to get hysterical in the excitement of the moment. Presently a bell sounded, the curtains flew apart, and the "Operatic Tragedy of Dorothy of Oz" began.

*After the play*

Tumultuous applause followed after the play and all the audience tried hard not to laugh. The excitement had hardly subsided when Hannah appeared, with "_Mrs. Pezberrosechang's compliments, and would the ladies walk down to supper."_

This was a surprise even to the actors, and when they saw the table, they looked at one another in rapturous amazement. It was like Marmee to get up a little treat for them, but anything so fine as this was unheard of since the departed days of plenty. There was ice cream, actually two dishes of it, pink and white, and cake and fruit and distracting French bonbons and, in the middle of the table, four great bouquets of hot house flowers.

It quite took their breath away, and they stared first at the table and then at their mother, who looked as if she enjoyed it immensely.

_"Is it fairies?"_ asked Tina.

"_Santa Claus,"_ said Marley.

_"Mother did it."_ And Rachel smiled her sweetest, in spite of her gray beard and white eyebrows.

_"Aunt Sylvester had a good fit and sent the supper,"_ cried Santana, with a sudden inspiration.

_"All wrong. Old Mr. Abrams sent it,"_ replied Mrs. Pezberrosechang.

_"Oh, the Abrams boy's grandfather! What in the world put such a thing into his head? We don't know him!"_ exclaimed Rachel.

_"Hannah told one of his servants about your breakfast party. He is an odd old gentleman, but that pleased him. He knew my father years ago, and he sent me a polite note this afternoon, saying he hoped I would allow him to express his friendly feeling toward my children by sending them a few trifles in honor of the day. I could not refuse, and so you have a little feast at night to make up for the bread-and-milk breakfast."_

_"That boy put it into his head, I know he did! He's a capital fellow, and I wish we could get acquainted. He looks as if he'd like to know us but he's bashful, and Rachel is so prim she won't let me speak to him when we pass,"_ said Santana, as the plates went round, and the ice began to melt out of sight, with ohs and ahs of satisfaction.

_"You mean the people who live in the big house next door, don't you?"_ asked one of the girls. _"My mother knows old Mr. Abrams, but says he's very proud and doesn't like to mix with his neighbors. He keeps his grandson shut up, when he isn't riding or walking with his tutor, and makes him study very hard. We invited him to our party, but he didn't come. Mother says he's very nice, though he never speaks to us girls."_

"_Our cat ran away once, and he brought her back, and we talked over the fence, and were getting on capitally, all about cricket, and so on, when he saw Rachel coming, and walked off. I mean to know him some day, for he needs fun, I'm sure he does,"_ said Santana decidedly.

_"I like his manners, and he looks like a little gentleman, so I've no objection to your knowing him, if a proper opportunity comes. He brought the flowers himself, and I should have asked him in, if I had been sure what was going on upstairs. He looked so wistful as he went away, hearing the frolic and evidently having none of his own."_

_"It's a mercy you didn't, Mother!"_ laughed Santana, looking at her boots. _"But we'll have another play sometime that he can see. Perhaps he'll help act. Wouldn't that be jolly?"_

_"I never had such a fine bouquet before! How pretty it is!"_ And Rachel examined her flowers with great interest.

_"They are lovely. But Marley's roses are sweeter to me,"_ said Mrs. Pezberrosechang, smelling the half-dead posy in her belt.

Marley nestled up to her, and whispered softly, "_I wish I could send my bunch to Father. I'm afraid he isn't having such a merry Christmas as we are."_


	3. A-L-E-R-T

CHAPTER 3 will be posted next week.

It's fine if you don't follow this story but **PLEASE DO LEAVE A REVIEW.** So, I can be aware if you are reading it


End file.
